


Sell

by Attasee



Series: The Mattress Chronicles [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Scott's POV, Scott-Centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 18:49:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5713240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attasee/pseuds/Attasee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott McCall gets his suspicious on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sell

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently I really like writing Scott, so much so when I write Stiles' chapter Scott won't shut up. It's also not that long so its more like a ficlet.
> 
> I suppose it's acting a little bridge between the Derek's story and Stiles'.

It’s plainly obvious to Scott McCall that something is going down with his best friend and the suit guy Stiles has been semi-stalking in the shop for the past week.

It had all started when Stiles had gone on and on at Scott about some dude who had visited the store a few times that week, then today, Stiles had been pretty fucking quick to demand he was going to make the delivery to the guys house and do so on his own before Scott could say he was doing it.

 _‘Scotty, I’m a big boy, I can do this myself,’_ Scott vaguely remembers Stiles saying moments after watching his best friend change out of the work trousers the Mattress Sheriff made them wear and into the tightest pair of jeans he knew Stiles owned (to be now forever known as The Pulling Pants).

Then Scott hadn’t really answered him, at the time (to his own embarrassment) he was still pissed off with the fact he had made no commission from Suit Guy's massive sale and was therefore not technically speaking to Stiles but now? Now he was pissed off.

“I mean, how the fuck did that happen?” Scott asks the picture of him and Alison on his desk, absentmindedly thrusting his finger towards Alison’s head. “It was over 5k’s worth of mattress, and bed.”

Still angry Scott grabs a highlighter pen and looks down at the prospectus for the University of California homing in on their Animal Studies program and a way to clear his head, because he can’t sell beds forever right?

Right.

In fact it takes Scott all of five minutes to become distracted again, the days events continuing to roll over inside his head.

Was Stiles really at that guy’s house alone? He’d watched the way the two of them had acted in the shop all flirty and bouncing on mattresses. Yeah Scott had known at the time Stiles had thought he was asleep and hungover (and technically he had been for all of five minutes) but once that office door had closed Scott had bounced himself off that sofa so quickly he nearly brought his breakfast up.

Shuddering at that memory Scott points a finger at the figure in the frame a second time. “Who the hell does that with a customer?!”

Stiles. That’s who.

“There’s something not right here. Call it my spidey sense or whatever you want Alison but there is something not right.”

Scott knows he isn’t going to get an answer from a picture but he waits pauses anyway. In fact, he isn’t sure why he is bothered by the thought his best friend might well have been lusting after a stranger but for some reason he is.

Stiles is… Stiles… Scott thinks with a shake of his head. Of course Stiles lusting after guys is no surprise but…

It takes Scott five minutes to decide what to do next. He slips on his boots, tying the laces tight but not to stop the circulation, pulls on a jumper and then his jacket. He moves around his bedroom silently, gathering his phone, the slip of paper with the man’s delivery address on it (he just happened to see it and memorize it unintentionally) and the Maglite he keeps in his bedside drawers for anything that happens at night involving Stiles.

Scott is ready.

He is armed (a Maglite is a useful tool).

He is wrapped up well from the cold.

He has ‘some’ skills.

He will find out what the fuck is going on if it kill-

“Dude, dude…open the fucking window.”

“What the fuck? Stiles?” Scott replies looking towards the window and where the voice was coming from.

“Yeah it’s me, open the window.”

Placing the torch on the bed Scott casually wanders over the window, throwing his jacket off as he does so. “What the hell?” he says quietly. Drawing back the curtains he sees Stiles is clinging hard to the vine that grows up the side of the two storey house, his flushed looking face pushing up against the glass.

“Come on dude, it’s freezing out there.”

It takes Scott a minute to undo the locks and push the window open, pulling a cold looking Stiles in as he does so.

“Why are you climbing in through my window?” Scott asks calmly like it’s an everyday occurrence.

Stiles is a little out a breath, his breathing heavy and labored. “Dude…”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not gonna believe what happened…”

“I’m not?” Scott replies as he does a quick once over of Stiles. Yay, Scott thinks... the guy is alive if not a little out of breath but he still had two arms, two legs – one with a dodgy looking stain on it, no cuts, no bruises… hang on are those hickey mar-

Stiles shakes his head, “no.”

Eyeing the hickeys up more Scott doesn’t reply.

“The guy? Suit Guy?” Stiles is excited Scott can tell. He nods in response. “He is a millionaire. He’s like a movie mogul but instead of movies he sells mattresses. He lives in New York. He’s called Derek Hale. He’s got a butler, owns an island off the keys and the house I made the delivery too? It’s amazing.”

“Okay,” Scott quickly replies attempting not to sound too concerned or that he might be staring at Stiles’ neck because he can’t even with those bite marks... “And?”

“And… well, yeah,” Stiles replies with a grin. “Best fucking sex I’ve ever had.”

_Fucking hell._

Scott knows he is looking at Stiles with what amounts to a look of horror/pain. “Yeah?!” Scott winches. “Not a serial killer then?”

Stiles suddenly looks a little shocked. “Dude is that what you thought?”

Scott shrugs his shoulders; _it had crossed his mind…_

“You thought Suit Guy was a serial killer? No way Scotty boy, currently stood in front of you is a well fucked Stillinski.”

Scott shakes his head.

Oh dear god.

Stiles is practically glowing.

“And I’m going back for more.”


End file.
